


Saints and Sinners

by Umeko



Series: Orden Tales [4]
Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Blasphemy, Bondage, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Mind Control, Rough Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 06:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaak goes to confession over his carnal relationship with Dietrich. Heavy blasphemy ensues for poor Father William.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saints and Sinners

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. 
> 
> This work was originally posted on fanfiction.net and has since been removed for explicit content.

“Eh? The Father’s sleeping in the front pew… _with his fly open…”_ A cheeky choirboy poked his fellow, who immediately giggled to the choirmaster’s annoyance. 

“Fess up, lads. Which one of you slipped him a mickey?” the choirmaster of St Gilbert’s grumbled. The church was in a rough neighbourhood and its turnover rate of priests was a national high. They were lucky to persuade the travelling priest to stay for the coming Easter Mass. The lads’ perchance for pranks did not make things easier. The last priest, Father Karl, awoke one morning in the church’s schoolroom to find the furniture nailed to the ceiling, courtesy of the choir. 

“Aw, we’s only mickey ’em foreign priests. Father Willie’s Albionian born ‘en bred, guv. Why’s we wanna mickey him?”

“For the love of Christ, pass me a cloth, lad, before Ma Flo comes to clean…” The priest’s eyes fluttered. With a groan, Father William Walter Wordsworth sat up. _Morning._ He must prepare for the morning service. He looked down at his lap, then up. Becoming aware of the eyes of a dozen choirboys and their choirmaster, his hands immediately covered his crotch. He prayed no one would ask about those dried stains on his pants.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…” he muttered hastily under his breath before retreating to the backroom. He couldn’t recall how he came to be sleeping on the pew with his fly open. Something terrible had happened last night. It chilled him just thinking about it, though he could not remember exactly what.

 

**_The night before…_ **

Confessional duty. William stretched his legs in the cramped box. If there was one thing all the AX priests agreed on, it was the tedious chore of confessional duty, be it in Rome or in some church they were temporarily despatched to as part of their duties. Personally, William was looking forward to the tenure he had secured at the RomeUniversity. For now, he has to serve out his duties in this parish, listening to the myriad sins and absolving the penitents… 

For a neighbourhood of St Gilbert’s reputation, William was surprised by how mundane the inhabitants’ confessed sins were. Adultery, petty theft, pickpocketing… maybe sacred seal of the confession or not, folks are reluctant to confess murder. Which saved him the dreaded moral dilemma that some of his less fortunate colleagues had undergone. Once in Flanders, a man had confessed to the serial kidnap, rape and murder of young girls to a travelling priest during confession. That travelling priest was an eighteen-year-old Hugue de Watteau. Young Hugue did not break the seal of confession though. Instead, he broke a few things until the scumbag was glad to confess before the local police to escape further pain. William bit back a grin at the memory. Caterina had been openly aghast at Hugue’s behaviour, but behind closed doors, she agreed with it wholeheartedly.

He absolved a fishwife for her sin of gluttony and waited. It was late. If there were no further penitents, he would return to his room…

“Father, I have sinned…” Another penitent. A man with a slight German accent.

“What are your sins, my son?” William rattled off the old script, going through the motions.

“Incest. With my kid brother.”

William involuntarily sucked in his breath. His heart sank to his feet. The atmosphere suddenly seemed almost oppressive. The penitent rattled on. 

“It has always been just the two of us since he was seven. I first raped him when he was about ten. He’s too beautiful. I can’t help myself. Almost every night, I drag him out from wherever he’s hiding and ram it into him. He hates it because I tear him apart doing him. Sometimes, I rip him up so bad, he can’t leave his bed. He kicks up an awful din when I do him so I gag and tie him up… And the neighbours needn’t know. I love it when he is in pain…” 

William’s breath caught. He was dealing with a paedophile of the worst kind. 

“He’s learning to be a good little boy whore now. He’s unbelievably limber. You never guess at the positions I have taken him in and the things I have raped him with…” There was no hint of remorse in this confession, only a perverted lust. William seriously pondered if punching the lights out of this penitent would be justified. The voice bothered him. It was familiar. He had heard it before, somewhere… 

“I have no intention of stopping. In fact, I will go do him again after I’m done here…” That did it. William clenched his fists and stormed out. He yanked back the curtain so hard, the fabric tore. 

“Hello, William,” Isaac Butler smirked at him and lit up a cigarillo. “It has been a while, hasn’t it, old chap?”

“Isaac?” William squeaked, His mind trawling back, two, three years to his days at LondiniumUniversity. Isaac, young, charismatic, intelligent… And his kid brother, Dean, a pale, polite boy with impeccable manners. William had often loaned his books to the pair due to their supposed financial difficulties. Now, he felt sick thinking of how Isaac abused that poor child.

“Isaac Butler, you swine!” William threw a punch at the smiling Isaak, only to have his fist pulled back by invisible strings.

“Tut-tut, Isaak… You promised to wait for me…” Dressed in his Orden uniform, Dietrich pouted as he strolled down the central aisle. He tugged on his strings, forcing William away from Isaak. Isaak stepped out of the confessional.

“I have to confess some things to you, Willie,” Isaak took the lit cigarillo in his hand. “First, my name is not Isaac Butler. It is Isaac Fernand von Kampfer. Secondly, I am a vampire and this boy,” he pulled Dietrich close and sank his fangs into the boy’s neck, drawing blood and licking the red droplets that oozed out. The brown-haired boy trembled and moaned. He was almost swooning when Isaak stopped licking. “Is Dietrich von Lohengrin, a boy I have selected from the gutter for my personal amusement.”

“You fiend!” William growled and lunged for Isaak, only to be pulled short.

“Let the good Father have a seat, Di.” The boy made some gesture in the air and William found himself strangely compelled to sit down on the front pew. Isaak sat next to him. Dietrich sat on his other side. _How old was he? Fourteen?_ The boy was obviously still a minor.

“Now, Di, show the Father what a good altar boy you are…” Isaak blew acrid smoke into William’s face. The priest coughed. With a nod, Dietrich’s hand burrowed into the folds of the cassock. “He is skilled, isn’t he? I made him everything he is today,” Isaak continued smoothly. Dietrich smiled as his nimble fingers teased.

William choked back a groan. His groin felt sore. He shoved against the tiny hand pleasuring him to the pair’s delight. _The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak…_ The priest prayed. 

“Isaak… why?” William bucked and gasped. 

“Why? Willie, you were such a prude. Never thought you would go into clergy. So, I’ll love to play the serpent. Also, it’ll be interesting to watch someone else screwing Dietrich for a change.” 

Isaak shrugged and motioned for Dietrich to stop touching William with his hands. This time, Dietrich clambered onto the priest’s lap, legs straddling his lap. He kissed a stunned William on the lips. “Kiss me back, you dolt,” Dietrich sensed his reluctance and complained. The touch of his breath sent a shiver through the priest. He tugged on his strings. William found himself unwillingly returning the kiss. His arms held the boy closer. His tongue forced those willing lips apart and probed Dietrich’s mouth. The boy tasted of cinnamon and liquorice. 

“Doesn’t he taste nice, Willie? A sweet little thing to tumble about with, eh?” Isaak mocked with a fake Albionian accent.

The priest prayed no one would walk in on them. His arousal strained, bucking against the boy’s body. The boy moaned with unbridled lust, rubbing against the priest with more vigour. Isaak watched detachedly. William’s hands moved to undo Dietrich’s tie. Isaak broke his silence. 

“Enough, Dietrich.” The boy slipped off William’s lap. Eyes hooded seductively, Dietrich walked up to the altar and slowly disrobed, letting each item slip from him. Finally, the youth stood before them as naked as the day he was born. William had to admit the boy’s physique was almost flawless, porcelain pale and slender. The boy climbed onto the bare altar table and lay on his back with his arms and legs outstretched.

“Dietrich, what are you up to?” Isaak growled.

“Take me here, Isaak. I feel in the mood for some blasphemy,” Dietrich moaned sensually and spread his legs wider.

“So seducing a priest not enough for you?” Isaak waved his arm.

To William’s bewilderment, strands of shadows slithered from the recesses of the church. Four held the boy’s wrists and ankles while a fifth burrowed between his buttocks. “Isaak!” Dietrich screamed as he was raped mercilessly by the shadow. “YES! Harder, fuck me harder!” With a shrug, Isaak summoned a sixth which curled around Dietrich’s neck before slipping into his mouth. Dietrich moaned unintelligible as he was sodomized by the shadows at an increasingly furious tempo.

The priest was too stunned to think. They were desecrating the altar! William wanted to run forward and haul Dietrich off the table. Instead, he was rooted to the spot and could only watch in morbid fascination as Dietrich reached his peak.

The shadows receded. Freed from his restraints, the boy slipped off the altar-top. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing ragged. He walked shakily over to Isaak, who greeted him with a fierce kiss. 

“It’s time to entertain our old friend,” Isaak nudged Dietrich. With a coquettish smile, he knelt before the priest and lightly pushed his legs apart. Nimble hands hitched up his cassock and undid his pants. “No…” William moaned and struggled in vain. Dietrich, eyes all mock innocence, looked up at from those brown bangs. A smile tugged at his still swollen lips. 

“Shall I kiss you here?” he asked, his breath brushing against the sensitive skin. “No- stop- don’t…” William protested weakly. He gasped as the boy kissed and licked him there. Small hands held on to his thighs. Isaak watched on with dark amusement.

“Do him in the mouth, Willie… you know you want it…” Isaak leaned over and whispered to William. “Go on, ram it down his throat.” The priest groaned. His hands involuntarily wound themselves in Dietrich’s hair, guiding him. Dietrich took his length completely in. Waves of guilty pleasure washed over him as the youth worked his tongue skilfully. William thrust his hips forward, thrusting himself deeper into that mouth milking him. Dietrich gagged at the unexpected motion, but kept working his tongue. Fingernails dug into Dietrich’s scalp.

William quivered with a mix of disgust, horror and guilt. _A fine pickle he was in, engaged in a sexual act with a minor in a church._

Isaak stubbed out his cigarillo on the pew, undid his pants and positioned himself behind his protégé. Gripping the narrow hips, he lifted them up and thrust in hard. William felt Dietrich gasp from the sudden intrusion. They were thrusting together now, sandwiching the boy between them, William thrusting in his mouth, Isaak ramming into him from the rear. Isaak’s long hair ghosted over Dietrich’s back as they rutted, gloved hands reached in front to touch Dietrich. He grunted in rhythm to his thrusts, adding to William’s moans of pleasure.

The release came suddenly with William bucking and spilling into Dietrich’s mouth. Dietrich caught most of it, but some leaked out onto his cassock. Isaak finished with a violent thrust that jerked the boy off William. The strange forces that held him prisoner were gone. William groaned. He was spent. He lay down on the pew, shaken. Isaak and Dietrich were no longer interested in him. His presence obviously meant little to them. Isaak now stood rocking his hips, hands on Dietrich’s head as the boy knelt and licked him off. 

 _Father, forgive us sinners…_ The twisted tableau faded as exhaustion claimed the priest.

After a few more satisfying sessions of rutting, Dietrich finally retrieved his clothes and dressed himself. He turned to Isaak, who was straightening his tie. “Say, Isaak… it seems almost a pity Willie there will have no memory of the fun he had… should we stick him in the backroom?”

“Leave him there,” Isaak smirked. “Let him have something to think about in the morning.” He placed a hand on the unconscious priest’s forehead and muttered the arcane spell. It was a pity they wouldn’t be around to see the reaction of the congregation if they should walk in on William in this state of disarray.

“Was I a good boy, Isaak?” Dietrich asked with fake innocence.

“You, my little sinner, are sinfully delicious,” Isaak pulled his protégé closer as the shadows swallowed them both. 


End file.
